when we were eighteen - book one ✔️

Chapter Ten

HARRY // DECEMBER 2016

[ Mentions of domestic abuse and rape in this chapter. It will NOT be graphic or descriptive. ]

Harry was standing awkwardly in front of Louis. He was rocking on his heels, hands stuffed in his back pockets. He looked as nervous as when they said their final goodbyes.

He couldn't help but feel slightly relieved that Louis seemed okay on the outside. Niall had scared the shit out of him when Niall knocked on Harry's door. The pregnant boy had no clue what was happening.

All Niall said was, "Louis is in a bad place. You need to come with me."

"So," Harry said, awkwardly. How do they speak after his breakdown less than thirty minutes ago? "Do you want to head in and talk? There's a lot to cover."

"Yeah," Louis huffed, turning on his heel to head into the little one story house that Niall and Jade owned. Harry trailed behind, a feeling of nausea in his belly.

The living room the boys were sitting in was open, with tall white walls and black or dark brown furniture. It felt cold, sterile. It was obvious that it wasn't lived in until now. There were paint cans along the base of walls and little swatches of warm beiges and light greens on the wall. Harry sat next to Louis on the black leather couch, pulling his legs up underneath.

"Can I start?" Harry asked.

Louis's eyes widened, probably completely surprised, "Of course."

Harry drew in a deep breath and said, "After you left, I fell into a rut of school, homework, and songwriting. I rarely went out, I barely talked to anyone. The highlight of my days were when you would Skype me. Or send me a cute text. Then you suddenly stopped. I tried to find you, I looked everywhere for you. If I didn't have the photographic evidence, I would've thought you were a figment of my imagination.

"I couldn't find you, so I decided that our...promise was void. I was going to leave Doncaster and go from there. I was going to hopefully find someone who I was going to fall in love with and you would just become a part of my past."

"Harry-" Louis interrupted, his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't mean to just leave that way..."

"It's okay, you'll explain next. I just want to be honest right now, okay?" Harry asked, giving the boy a smile.

"Okay," Louis nodded.

"I got into an University," Harry continued, "in London and moved there with a friend I had somehow managed to make. We moved into an apartment right off of campus and things were actually going great. I was passing everything and it was going great. It was my third year when I met Kyle. He was a transfer student from Manchester, his father is one of the highest paid lawyers in the U.K., and he became my partner on a film project.

"He was handsome, yes. But no one had even interested me since you, Louis. No one. I hadn't gone on one date, nothing. I hadn't had interest in Kyle either, but he was interested in me. He pursued me, gave me attention that I didn't know I was lacking. So, after two months of him trying to ask me out, I accepted. Things only went downhill from there.

"When we were dating for about four months, he back handed me. It was during one of our first fights, it was over me driving to Manchester with him to meet his parents. I didn't want to go, it was midterms and I wanted to cram for Film. He was pissed that I said no, he started yelling and cursing at me," Harry's throat caught as the memory ran in front his eyes like a movie in high definition.

"Then his hand came across and just hit me, it hurt and I was shocked. He apologized and said that he had no clue why he had done that. He cried, even. He let me stay at Uni for the weekend, as my bruise purpled and yellowed.